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<title>Dropping Bodies: A Pushing Daisies AU by MizJoely</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24626542">Dropping Bodies: A Pushing Daisies AU</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely'>MizJoely</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cracky AU, F/M, Pushing Daisies AU, Sherlolly - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 11:14:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,164</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24626542</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little Pushing Daisies inspired AU for Sherlock and Molly. What happens when one Reanimator discovers the existence of another?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dropping Bodies: A Pushing Daisies AU</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <i>Dropped the body: Died, Euphemistic. Used by new-age spiritually minded people instead of the term died, suggesting that, while the person's body died, his or her spirit lives on (from Wikipedia)</i>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So…John. He's your person, then?"</p>
<p>Sherlock tilted his head, wrinkled his brow, and tried to be as polite as possible when he answered (<em>after all, he still needed this woman's cooperation if he wanted access to the bodies he needed when Lestrade wasn't with him</em>). "Sorry, I don't actually have…people. Not in the way you're implying. And definitely not John, he would be very, well, insulted if you thought we were…"</p>
<p>"No, no, that's not what I - well, I mean, it sort of is, I guess, because I have been wondering but that's none of my business." Molly blushed as she stumbled on. "What I meant was…he's your <em>person</em>. The one you…saved." The last word was spoken in a hushed whisper even though there was no one in the morgue but the two of them. Well. No one <em>alive</em>. At the moment.</p>
<p>Sherlock shook his head. "No, I'm afraid you've got it backwards," he said easily. "He's the one who saved me, actually. More than once." <em>And in more than one way,</em> he thought but would never ever admit to anyone.</p>
<p>Molly huffed impatiently. "No, that's not what I meant! I mean, that's great, I knew you two had a real bond even though you always pick on…uh, even though you two joke a lot," she hastily backtracked, "but what I meant was…He's the one you saved by…oh, bollocks! Look, let me just…"</p>
<p>And she snapped off her glove, pulled down the sheet covering Mr. Albert Simpson, 42, murdered by a shotgun blast to the chest…and did the most extraordinary thing Sherlock had ever seen.</p>
<p>Well, at least it was extraordinary seeing <em>someone else </em>do it. In mounting disbelief (and was that excitement? hope? joy?) he watched as Molly Hooper, Specialty Registrar at St. Barts Hospital, the woman he flattered and charmed into allowing him access to the morgue even without DI Lestrade by his side, placed her index finger on the forehead of the body he'd come to examine.</p>
<p>A sound like the sizzling of an electric shock, a brief flash of light...and Simpson lurched up into a sitting position. "Hello!" the (formerly) dead man exclaimed. "Who are you? Where am I?" When Molly pointed mutely to his chest, he looked down, and his face fell. "Bollocks," he said. "That bastard killed me, didn't he?"</p>
<p>"Which bastard?" Sherlock interrupted quickly. No point in wasting time, especially since neither he nor Molly (<em>Molly! Molly Hooper! Someone else like him!</em>) had started the one minute timer - or did she need a timer? Was she perhaps not limited to that single minute of reanimation that plagued his particular gift?</p>
<p>All questions that would have to wait - but only until after Mr. Simpson answered the question he'd asked. Oh, he'd already deduced it was the half-brother, but it never hurt to have confirmation directly from the source.</p>
<p>"Elwood," Simpson replied. As expected. "That bloody bastard - well, technically I'm the bastard, but I told him I wasn't interested in our father's money! I just wanted to have a family, to be his <em>brother</em>, and instead the wanker just up and shoots me - I'll bet he tried to make it look like a hunting accident, didn't he!"</p>
<p>Molly nodded sympathetically while Sherlock just rolled his eyes. "He did," she said softly, placing her still-gloved hand over that of the victim. "But we'll make sure he doesn't get away with it, won't we Sherlock?"</p>
<p>"Er, yes, of course, justice will be served," Sherlock replied after a slight pause as he adjusted to the fact that Molly was consoling Simpson and asking him to back her up.</p>
<p>Simpson beamed at Molly. "Great, thanks, both of you! I'll rest easier knowing…"</p>
<p>Before he could finish speaking, Molly reached out with her ungloved hand and gently touched him on the neck.</p>
<p>Simpson collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Molly pulled her discarded glove back on her hand (not without a bit of a struggle that was actually kind of…adorable?) then expertly rearranged the once-again inanimate corpse onto the trolley, covered it up, and pushed the shelf back into the drawer.</p>
<p>Once she'd re-secured the metal door, she stripped off the gloves, balling them inside one another, and dropped them into the disposal bin before turning once again to face him. "So," she said, after taking a deep breath. "John. He's your person?"</p>
<p>Sherlock nodded dumbly. "He died saving my life. It was the least I could do, bringing him back. And since the only other person in proximity was the murderer, I had no compunctions about leaving John alive."</p>
<p>"I thought it must be something like that. For me, it was my father." Molly smiled wistfully. "He's living in Australia now. We decided it would be best if the temptation to, to hug or kiss each other on the cheek - well, we came close a couple of times because that's what you do, right? You hug your father, he kisses you on the cheek, and well, that's how my mother…"</p>
<p>"She was your first?" Molly nodded. "Mine was my best friend Victor Trevor. We were eight."</p>
<p>Sherlock realized he was telling Molly something that he'd told no one except John Watson, but couldn't have stopped himself from sharing his story if he tried. He would examine why he felt that way later (<em>and discover that, much to his amazement and dismay, it wasn't merely that she was the only other person with his ability that he'd ever met</em>). "He'd fallen down a well and drowned, only it turned out my younger sister, Eurus, had actually pushed him down there because she was jealous of our friendship - which," he added hastily as he perceived Molly's horrified expression, "is a story for another day. The point is that I jumped into the well when I saw him floating there, and when I touched him, he came back to life…and then he hugged me and suddenly he was dead again."</p>
<p>Molly's expression went through a series of transformations as he spoke - so many tiny little emotions, he lost count - but sympathy was there, and sorrow, as she reached out and hesitantly laid her hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, looking up at him through wide brown eyes he'd once dismissed as boring and ordinary. How could he possibly have done so, how could he have not seen how expressive they were?</p>
<p>Without thinking, he leaned down so that his forehead touched hers - and felt a spark, like an electric shock, not dissimilar to how it felt when he reanimated a corpse. He sprang back, horrified at the possibility that their matching abilities might somehow have caused some kind of damage, but thankfully Molly was still alive and well, although her eyes were now wide with surprise. "What was that?" she exclaimed.</p>
<p>He grinned. "I don't know, Molly Hooper, but I can tell you that I'm looking forward to finding out!"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I don't think I'll ever continue this on, but just in case, I'm leaving it as a one-shot instead of folding it into one of my collections. Hope you enjoyed it!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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